


strawberry wine

by queenhomeslice



Series: that cocky bastard [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, Dirty Talk, Drinking, F/M, One Night Stands, One Shot, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, fat reader, plus size reader, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28727886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Your friends finally convince you, a notorious homebody, to meet them at a bar one evening. What you find is more than you ever bargained for.
Relationships: Reno (Compilation of FFVII)/Reader, Reno/Reader
Series: that cocky bastard [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127945
Comments: 16
Kudos: 55





	strawberry wine

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy VII; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way. 
> 
> ________  
> Please be nice, this is my first Reno/reader fic; and my first time writing Reno as a whole! Thanks to my friend Railyard_Ghosts for beta-reading.  
> *This Reno is mostly based off the complete badass we see in the Remake; but this can be Reno from VII, or any other VII canon-adjacent game, if you wish.

_  
You should get out more! You’ll never meet someone just sitting in your living room in sweatpants, eating ice cream and playing video games!_

You sigh, the echoes of your friends resounding in your inner psyche as you, reluctantly, prepare to do just That. You’re more of a homebody—and when you do go out, it’s on your own terms: the movies, the bookstore, a quiet brunch, a walk in the park, the occasional concert. You’re not one for a seedy dive bar or a too-loud club where you have to shout to communicate or where men get a little too frisky. 

Yet...here you are, staring at yourself in the mirror, makeup and hair done up to the nines, wearing short, strappy wedge heels and a sparkly red bodycon dress that shows off your ample cleavage and plush curves. You don’t even like red that much, but this was on the clearance rack for 350 gil and you’d bought it on a whim, knowing that it would behoove you to have something skimpy and sparkly if the occasion ever popped up. 

Well. It’s popping up _now._ You dump your purse onto the bed, grab the silver satin clutch from the hook on the wall, and throw in some essentials—license, credit card, some loose cash, lipstick, two condoms, mace, and your phone. You take your apartment key off of your big fluffy chocobo keychain and clip a smaller charm to it so that it’ll fit in the clutch; locking your door behind you, you head off to the upscale bar to meet your friends. 

You sigh in relief as you push open the door. It’s a little crowded, but the music isn’t blaring, and people are talking at normal levels, so you visibly relax as you move further inside, scanning the bar for your friends, eyes moving from the long counter and its patrons to the tables and booths spread out in the rest of the restaurant. You frown—maybe you’ve beat them here? You decide to move closer to the bar, out of the way of the entrance. 

There are only a few empty stools left, scattered among a few men in sharp, black suits. You shiver involuntarily—you'd know Shinra’s black ops forces anywhere. There are three of them—one is bald, with earrings, who’s still wearing sunglasses even though it’s 9 pm and he’s inside; one with long black hair, and when he turns to scan the bar, you can see his sharp eyes and the _tilak_ in the center of his forehead. The third one isn’t as stoic and silent as the others—he's got spikey red hair, with a long red ponytail and goggles nestled in the wild tufts near his forehead. He laughs at something and slaps the bald man on the back, who just shakes his head and sips from his bourbon glass. The redhead turns, and for a brief moment you meet his turquoise eyes that are framed by red tattoos. 

You cannot help but drag your gaze from the Turk’s striking eyes down to his pale, exposed throat and down the length of his chest and half of his torso—his black suit jacket and stark-white shirt are cut open at the chest, only held by a singular clasp and button, giving anyone unfettered access to ogle the top half of his lean, sculpted body. You blush, and avert your gaze before the man gets angry. You know how dangerous they are—nearly everyone warns you about being involved with Shinra, the Turks, or anyone else even remotely related to them. But you promptly forget about any potential danger as you feel your traitorous feet carry you to the bar, right to the empty seat beside the man with the long black hair and the _tilak_. You curl into yourself, feeling the uneasiness radiate from the Turks to your left, and busy yourself with your phone, texting your friends to see where they are. 

“What’ll it be, miss?” 

You glance up at the bartender. “Oh, uh. Sorry. Um...” You stare at the shelves of alcohol, not really knowing how to order a cocktail from off the top of your head. You panic for several seconds before being rescued. 

“Giv’er a cosmopolitan,” says a bratty voice, “and put it on my tab.” 

“Reno,” says the long-haired man. “Not on Shinra’s check.” 

“Ah, Tseng, man, lighten _up,_ yo!” The source of the voice slides from his barstool with a _thunk_ , booted feet landing on the wooden floor. 

“One cosmopolitan, coming right up,” says the bartender with a nod, turning to fix the drink. 

You lean up and peer around the long-haired man—Tseng—to the red-haired man with the turquoise eyes; Reno, was it? His whole face is flushed, and he licks his lips as he looks you up and down. He throws his arm around Tseng in a dramatic flourish, using the other to dip low in an exaggerated bow. 

“Lady in red,” he purrs, ogling your cleavage. “What brings a pretty thing like you all the way out here?” 

You barely register the bartender placing the dainty glass of alcohol on the counter in front of you as you turn fully to the Turks. “I, um. I was supposed to be meeting my friends...” 

“Is that so,” Reno continues. 

You swallow nervously. Damn, this man is _gorgeous,_ and to have that intense stare directed at you is almost overwhelming. Your phone buzzes, but you can’t even be assed to look at the notification. 

“Looks like your drink is here,” says Reno, smirking. “Why dontcha take a sip? C’mon, courtesy of Shinra.” 

Tseng turns his head to you with a slight eye roll. “Forgive him, miss. If he’s bothering you...” 

You shake your head. For someone like Reno—Turk or no—to be interested in you, to even buy you a drink, is more than you could’ve hoped for this evening. You turn and pluck the glass from the bar, lifting it to your lips, taking a liberal sip. Pulling it away, you see that your bright red lipstick has left a mark on the edge of the glass; staring through it, you line up the lipstick mark with Reno’s bare chest, taking your mind to very, _very_ naughty places. What would it be like to mark up and down those half-exposed pecs? To send him back to Shinra headquarters with a stain on his collar, letting everyone know who’d had the pleasure of defiling one of their elite warriors? 

You lower your glass, staring Reno down. “It’s amazing, uh—Reno,” you say, loving the way his name rolls from your tongue. 

Reno laughs. “Yeah? It’s good, right? Much better than Rude’s boring ol’ bourbon over here.” 

The bald man sighs loudly, looking at the bartender. “Cut him off.” 

“Aaaaaw, noooooooo,” Reno says, flinging himself back onto the bald man with the sunglasses. “Rude, you’re so mean.” 

You can’t help but chuckle at Reno’s tipsy, childish display as you take another long sip of your drink. You take the opportunity to look at your phone, swiping the screen to read the group chat. 

“Figures,” you mutter, learning that two of your friends had bailed, and the other one had gotten into a fight with her boyfriend and was too upset to come out tonight. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Reno says, coming up to you and invading your space. 

You inhale sharply, smelling his sweat and his musky cologne. With your eyes still locked on your phone, typing a message back to your friends, you can see his pale, muscular torso peeking out from his uniform, and it makes you instinctively squeeze your thick thighs together. You flick your eyes back up to meet his mischievous gaze. “It looks like my friends won’t be meeting me after all,” you say quietly. “Ugh. I got all dressed up and everything—they were pressuring me to come out, so I finally said yes, and they’re not even fucking here.” 

“What a bitch,” says Reno, rolling his tongue across his top teeth. “Hey, why don’t you hang out with us instead, yo? We could use the company.” 

You look at Tseng and Rude—neither of them seems impressed with Reno’s attempted pick-up game. “I don’t want to impose on a Turks’ night out,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m sure you guys are trying to relax from a long day, and uh...” 

“Reno,” says Tseng. “Don’t lump us in with your schemes.” 

Reno sticks his tongue out to Tseng behind his back, causing you to giggle. His pretty eyes flick back to you as you continue to drink and stare at his sharp cheekbones. You finish the drink and place the glass back on the counter. 

“Another one for the pretty lady, my good man!” Reno shouts, snapping at the bartender. “And a fourth for me, yo!” 

Rude knocks back the last of his bourbon and slides to his feet, coolly adjusting his jacket cuffs. “I’m headed home,” he says, nodding at Tseng. “You coming?” 

Tseng nods silently and wriggles out of Reno’s grip, turning to level his gaze at the Turk. “I don’t care what you do, but don’t be late in the morning.” 

Reno smirks and gives him a two-finger salute, turquoise eyes sparkling as his peers meander out of the bar. He turns back to you, cocking his head. “Damn shame you got all dressed up for your friends,” he says, gingerly reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “But I’m sure glad you did, ‘cause now _I_ get to look at you, y’know?” Reno leans in close, those full pink lips ghosting warm breath over your ear. “What’s your name, yo?” 

You gulp hard, feeling your face heat up. “It’s _________. _________ ________,” you answer nervously. 

Reno grins and licks his lips. “That’s pretty cute, like you. Wanna go somewhere more private?” 

______ 

If earlier this morning, someone had told you that you’d be bringing home a slightly tipsy high-ranking Turk home into your bed, you would have told them that they needed a mental evaluation. And yet—here you are. Reno is touchy and flirty all along the subway ride back, strong slender hands caressing your thick thigh, teasing up the hem of your dress; full lips sucking soft marks into your neck, followed by flirty giggles and breathy moans. You’re too turned on to be properly embarrassed by Reno’s actions, but are still grateful when the train pulls into your stop. You drag the Turk up the station stairs and around the corner to your apartment building, fumbling with the key in the door as he gropes your fat ass. 

You shove your other purse off the bed and hurriedly dig into your clutch for one of the condoms. You feel Reno’s hand dragging across your bare back, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin. 

“What’s the holdup?” he says, fingers dancing impatiently at the straps of your dress. 

You turn, holding the condom between two fingers. “Just getting this.” 

Reno smirks. “No worries yo, I’m always safe. Can I fuckin’ kiss you now?” 

You nod, closing your eyes and parting your lips, moaning as you feel Reno’s full, pretty mouth slot against yours. You can taste the alcohol on his breath, but it does nothing to detract from his attractiveness. Reno kisses you like you imagine he does everything else—with practiced, confident maneuvers, certain that he’s going to win. And oh, you intend on letting him do everything his cocky little brain desires. 

Reno pushes you down until your legs hit the back of your mattress, and you break the kiss to shuffle fully on the bed, parting your legs and allowing the slender redhead to settle between them. Reno grinds against you, and you moan into his mouth upon feeling the prominent bulge in his tight slacks; you try and remember when’s the last time you had sex. It’s been months, at least. Your sex life isn’t very exciting—but now, at least, you can say you had a one-night stand with a _Turk_. You’ll have to remember to thank your friends for standing you up. 

Reno pulls back, bright turquoise eyes nearly blacked out with lust, face flushed nearly to the color of his tattoos and his hair. He reaches up to rip the goggles from his head, tossing them on the floor, then dips back down to kiss and suck at your neck. You feel him trail his lips lower and lower until he’s between your breasts. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, sucking a mark into your sternum. “Second you walked into that fuckin’ bar, I knew I had to have these tits.” 

You laugh at his dirty talk, hands flying up to rub at his strong biceps and along his back. “Yeah?” you ask breathlessly. “They’re yours, Reno. Fuck. You’re fuckin’ hot.” 

Reno raises his head, grinning in that signature half-smile that has moisture pooling in your panties. “Fuck yeah I am,” he says, licking his lips. “Ain’t you a lucky gal.” He sits up on his haunches and undoes the clasp of his jacket, and then the rest of the buttons of his shirt, throwing both to the floor. 

You scan his lean, chiseled body in near reverence—he's littered with scars, scratches, and bruises, a testament to his commitment to being Shinra’s muscle. “Shit,” you say. “Yeah, Reno. Fuck. I can’t believe I get to have you like this.” 

Reno smirks, undoing his belt and his fly. “Believe it, baby.” He jerks his head towards you. “As killer as you are in that dress, you’re wearing too much. Lose it.” 

You nod and roll off the bed, obeying him as fast as you can. You take off your wedges, grateful to be back on flat feet. You peel down the straps of your dress, letting it pool at your feet; you reach around to your back to undo your bra, but Reno’s hand stops you. 

“Allow me,” he purrs, low and sultry. 

So you let him, and he throws your bra to the armchair in the corner. You feel his hands trail lower until they reach the top of the shapewear that goes to the middle of your thick thighs. 

“Cute little shorts,” Reno teases, peeling them down. 

You laugh. “You skinny people don’t understand, my thighs rub together and it is _not_ a fun time.” 

Reno snorts. “Can’t have that,” he murmurs, squatting to drag the thin shorts all the way down your legs, prodding you to step out of them one leg at a time. You hear him gasp, and you know that he must be looking back up at your body. “Damn,” is all he can say. 

You never have the occasion to get really fancy—so why not wear a thong tonight? At least, that’s what the You of a few hours ago was thinking. Now you’re just thinking about how much you’d like Reno to rip it off of you. 

“How come I’ve never seen you before?” Reno growls. “The guys and I go out a lot, yo. You new here or somethin’?” 

You turn, letting Reno get a full view of your mostly naked body, save for the skimpy red g-string thong nestled around your plush lower half. “I just don’t get out much,” you say, reaching up to drag your hands along his pecs, squeezing the perfectly-shaped chest that had been teasing you so much at the bar. 

Reno lets out a primal growl and grabs your wrist, leading you to your bed and with surprising strength, throws you down on the mattress quite easily. 

Here, now, you can get a good look at the rest of him—which, holy _lifestream_ , the rest of his body does not disappoint. Strong, built legs that sport more well-defined muscles, littered with more battle scars than you can count, though you idly fantasize about kissing each and every one. But you lick your lips as you settle your gaze between his legs. 

If the redhead is cocky for _any_ one reason, it should definitely be this. Reno’s thick cock is flushed red and throbbing with interest as he gazes down at you with that beautiful smirk; he takes himself into his hand and his mouth falls open a little at the action. The carpets match the drapes—there are swirls of red hair at the base, a stark contrast to his porcelain skin. And he’s not only thick, but fuck—he's gotta be at least 7 inches. 

Reno levels his gaze at you as you take him in. “Like what you see? Most people do.” 

You gulp. “Hell yeah.” You lift your hips and take off your thong, tossing it to the side, now splayed out and fully nude before him. You’re a little self-conscious, as you always are—but aside from the shapewear smoothing a few lumps here and there, the bodycon dress left little to the imagination. If Reno didn’t have a problem with your body then, he surely won’t now. And judging by the way he’s looking at you, you look just fine. 

“You’re a damn five course dinner, y’know,” he says, crawling forward and laying his body flush on top of yours. He ducks his head into the side of your neck and breathes deeply. “Soft,” you hear him mumble into your skin. 

You laugh, letting your whole body jiggle with amusement. You bring your arms up to circle around his back, squeezing him tight. “Feels good, yeah? You normally go after fat girls like me?” 

Reno laughs, propping himself up on those well-defined arms. “I go after pretty girls,” he says, getting serious for a moment. “And you’re definitely that, yo.” He dips down to kiss you again, rutting his lean hips against you, making you whine and arch into him as you feel the drag of his hard cock against your soft tummy. 

“Reno,” you say breathlessly as he trails his fingers down your body, over the curve of your breast, squeezing hard, pinching your nipple and rolling it around in his perfect fingers. He pets across your stomach, your wide, fat hips, down and down until he’s teasing at your warm, slick folds. 

“Yeah that’s right baby, say my fuckin’ name,” Reno says as he slips two fingers inside of you, pumping them like he’s probably done a thousand times. 

But you’re absolutely gone, eyes squinted shut as you roll your hips against Reno’s fingers, squeezing your velvet muscles around him as he drags them in and out, torturously slow. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” you hear Reno whisper as he finally starts to pick up speed. You feel your clit throbbing as you writhe under his ministrations, lost to his dirty talk and the movement of his quick fingers. It takes a minute for you to realize that Reno is no longer beside you; you crack an eyelid to see that lithe, lean form roll down the length of your body like water, settling that wild red hair between your legs; and when you feel the flat of Reno’s tongue lap against your folds and flick inside, you whine high and needy, grabbing that thick spikey hair and pulling _hard_. 

You hear Reno almost scream as he doubles down with pleasuring you, spurred on by your fingers digging into his scalp. You drag his face up until his mouth is on your clit; he gets the hint and begins to suck, sliding his fingers back into you at a relentless pace. 

Your orgasm crashes into you—you hear the scream that rips from your throat, but Reno doesn’t let up. He keeps sucking at your core, swallowing down all of your juices that cascade out of you. With one final burst of energy, you arch your back and clench around his fingers, shaking, letting the pleasure wash over you as the height passes and you start to come down. You feel him pull away, slipping his fingers out of your dripping sex. He’s laughing—cocky bastard, of course he’s _laughing_. 

You crack your eyes open to see him sucking his fingers of your slick, wiping them on the sheets to get them dry enough to open the condom. He rips the packet on and rolls the thin sleeve over his hard, throbbing length, walking on his knees back to you and grabbing your ankles. 

“Still with me?” he purrs, lifting an eyebrow as he maneuvers your ankles on his broad shoulders. 

“Yeah,” you manage, smiling up at him. 

He just smirks again, grabbing the base of his cock and sliding into you. He bottoms out and circles his hips, throwing his head back and exhaling loud and low. “Holy shit,” Reno spits. “I knew you’d be fuckin’ perfect. Such a hot pussy, just for me.” 

You bite your lip and whimper as Reno gyrates those lean hips, screwing into you like it’s his latest mission from Shinra. 

“Yeah? You like that? Moaning like a bitch in heat for me, I fuckin’ love it!” Reno snaps his head forward and leans low over your chest, mouth immediately moving to your plump breast and biting down hard on your pert nipple. 

“ _Reno!”_ you scream as the redhead snaps his hips forward hard against you, unyielding and focusing on nothing except his pleasure now that you’ve been sated. His strong hands slide under your back and lift you up against him as he moves, his thick cock stretching you open with every well-timed thrust. It’s all you can do to hang on for the ride, wanton moans escaping your throat as he moves to lick and suck at your other nipple. 

He pulls away from you slides his fingers into yours, palm to palm, holding himself above you as stares at you with that beautiful turquoise gaze. You gaze up at him through half-lidded eyes, wanting to see the exact moment he comes inside of you. 

Luckily, you don’t have to wait long. 

“Oh, shit, _fuck, __________…!”_ Reno lets his mouth fall open and he moans low and dirty as those scarred hips stutter and buck recklessly into your hot, wet pussy. You feel his cock throb with release into the condom, swelling and filling the latex and he finally stills, sculpted chest heaving with effort. He stays still for another minute or so, eyes closed and face relaxed, basking in the afterglow. 

Damn. He’s _so_ hot. And to think that someone like you brought him to this state... “Fuck,” you say, still out of breath. 

Reno’s eyes snap open and he licks his lips, pulling his flagging cock from your spent body. “Fuck,” he echoes, laughing breathlessly. “Damn, that’s one of the best lays I’ve had in a while!” 

You giggle as he lifts himself up with a grunt, pulling the condom from his cock and tying it at the top, dropping it over the side of the bed to the floor. He collapses beside you onto his back, folding his arms behind his head and letting his eyelids flutter closed. He lets out a long exhale and sighs. 

“You’re not a cuddler, huh?” you tease, turning on your side to look at him in repose. 

Reno smirks, shrugging. “Not normally, but uh...” He opens an eye and turns his head. “You can come over here, yo. I won’t bite.” 

You scoff. “Uh, excuse me. My tits are gonna be sore for days after all the _biting_ you did.” 

Reno laughs as you move to his side, hugging him. He brings one arm down to drape it lazily over your chubby body. You idly rub patterns over his chest, petting over his pecs. Within ten minutes, you hear the tell-tale signs of someone lightly dozing. You draw the top sheet over the both of you, knowing that the Turk will probably wake in the middle of the night and vanish without a trace. 

But you’re determined to milk everything out of him while you have him in your bed; you fall asleep nuzzled into his soft, pale skin, drifting into impossible dreams that feature you and Reno in the throes of domestic bliss. 


End file.
